Malice
by Laylinka
Summary: The Joker crashes a banquet. Helena gets to walk away with a threat hanging over her head. She leaves everything and takes the first plane out of Gotham.
1. Chapter 1

Summery: The Joker crashes a banquet. Helena gets to walk away with a threat hanging over her head. She drops everything and takes the first plane out of Gotham.

Started: February 2008

Finished: October 2011

Helena Cole works at Donovan Enterprises. She refers to herself as a cubical dweller though she was sure her official title was something or other. It wasn't the most exciting job, but it paid well. That's why she stayed.

There was a banquet to celebrate a merger between Stanton and Donovan Enterprises. Normally, she didn't go to those things but decided play princess and attend. She crashed it practically as the Belle of the ball. She wore a bright yellow strapless gown; form fitted to slightly below her hips then came together to a 'v' in the middle. The skirt was long and flowing, peeking out was a pair of strappy 'red carpet worthy' sandals. She entered and glanced to her left then right nervously. One of her co-working friends noticed her and whisked her away into the high end crowds. She separated from her group saying that she was going to get something to drink. She did but then picked out a nice quiet wall space to lean against. She overlooked the people and the fashion and the décor.

Suddenly she spotted people in masks caring guns coming in at the East entrance, then the North. Shouting, lots of shouting ensued. 'Get out,' was her next thought. She snaked around the corner and began running toward the elevators.

A few yards in front of her, the doors open, and from around the corner out walk the Joker and 3 of his goons. (Think of the scene in Terminator 2 where Sarah Connor first sees him and falls on her behind.) He was wearing a long purple coat and a horrid scowl. An AK was at his side. He was heading towards her, with a strut worthy or a runway.

She fell on her backside. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. 'Oh, oh, oh my god.' She thought to herself of her impending death. He raised the gun and took a shot at the ceiling and she screamed. His feet stopped only to be planted on either side of her knees. She tried to inch her way back but her skirt wouldn't allow it. He raised the barrel and used it to push her shoulders down so she was on her back. She shut her eyes tight.

"Hey," he tapped her shoulder with the barrel of the gun to get her attention. "Hello beautiful." He smirked and looked her up and down. He touched the barrel to her cheek, she flinched. He moved it down to her neck. "What made you choose yellow?" He asked referring to her dress. She looked up at him, confused at his question she strained to find her voice.

"I…I just like the color."

"Mmmm. It looks good on you," he responded. He moved it down to her shoulder. "Do you like events like this?" He seemed interested.

Her eyebrows showed her confusion. "No, not really." He moved the gun barrel down her chest.

Her pleas where almost inaudible. "Why'd ya come then? A rich boyfriend?"

"No," she whimpered. He moved down further to her stomach. She closed her eyes. He took 2 steps until both his feet where on either side of her waist. He laid his rifle down beside her and bent down nearly sitting atop her. Bringing his face to her chest and moved up slowly, inhaling her scent. (Think X-Men 2 when Night Crawler attempts to assassinate the president ; ) She pushed herself against the floor. 'If he's not going to shoot me, what IS he going to do?' she wondered with dread. He smelled her expensive perfume. She tried to hold her breath but his proximity was stifling. He reeked of unidentifiable chemicals and paint. His eyes caught hers as he looked down and lowered his face.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked licking his lips.

"Joker," she whispered through teeth she clenched to keep from chattering out of fear. Her arms were drawn up tightly to her chest. He appeared to take pride in her knowing who he was. He smiled, then took a card seemingly out of thin air, waved it in front of her and tucked it into her dress. When she heard loud noises coming from the banquet room she bent her head up to look in the direction of the double doors expecting to see people run out, expecting to see someone get shot. He looked up too.

"No one's coming out. No one's leaving." He looked back down to her. Tears slipped out of the corners of her eyes.

"Do you know what I do?" he asked her.

"You're a terrorist."

"No-no-no-no. What do I do?"

"kill people…rob banks-"

"And…" he licked his lips again. When she didn't answer, he took out a switchblade and flicked it open beside her cheek. She gasped. "I carve smiles….into people's faces." He placed his other hand on the other side of her face; she inadvertently leaned into it when the knife touched her. "Sometimes, I like to get up close and personal with my victims. That's why a prefer a knife." He looked at her pouting his lips. "Hey, I got an idea and I think you'll like it. How 'bout I let you leave. I wanna see how long it will take me to catch up with you." He slowly rose up off of her. "I musn't keep my public waiting, for what I'm about to share with them." He walked over her. She tilted her head as far back as it would go to watch him as he walked away, afraid to move. "Catch ya later," he threw over his shoulder.

She bolted out of the elevator and didn't even tell anyone what was going on. She was a coward and she knew it. The Jokers words 'catch up with you' held her senses in a caustic grip. She ran for blocks not paying attention to if it was in the direction of her home or into the mist of traffic. She wanted to exhaust her fear but she ended up exhausting her body instead. She ducked into the nearest restaurant. Sitting at the counter in the farthest corner, she struggled to catch her breath.

'What can I do? Where can I go? I gotta get away from here.' She thought. 'I have no money on me, I don't want to go back home. I have to go back home. I have my cards there.' She rambled to herself. "Can I get you something to drink? You don't look so good." A guy from behind the counter asked. She barely regarded him, but still he returned with a glass of water. 'Why do I think he knows everything about me?' She asked herself. 'Maybe because I left my matching yellow purse with my driver license, address and other information in it on one of the tables at the banquet.' She answered herself. 'Damn it,' she thought. She didn't want to go home because she thought he might be waiting for her, to torment her or to congratulate her on making this his worse chase in his entire life. She glanced around at the tables and all the people who thought they were safe. Then she noticed a tip lying at an empty table without a second thought she got up. She pocketed the money, slinked out of the restaurant and waved the first taxi. She rushed out of the car, through the double doors and to the elevator.

Rushing to her door, she realized she had no purse which meant no keys or card to get inside. She cursed and went back down to the desk, then returned to her door. She cautiously entered her floor. She hadn't really thought much about her safety at home, she had grade 'A' security. Now it was like the only thing that was separating him from her was a thin pane of glass. It was as if all he had to do was wave his hand and it would disappear. She hated the necessity of having to change her clothes, but she had to, she couldn't wear that dress anymore, it was much to constricting. Letting it drop to the floor, she threw on the first things she saw. She threw on pair of orange bondage pants and a teal camisole. Helena was out of her house in 3 minutes with all her plastic, her cell and a sensible pair of shoes.

She took a taxi to the airport. On the way there her mind raced some more. 'Is there anyone I can stay with, at least for a while?' She asked herself. 'No I can't, I don't want them to get hurt….I should tell someone, but who?' She doubted the authorities. She knew the stories well enough. The Joker was like a plague you hoped you'd never contract.

She finally arrived and booked the fastest and furthest ticket. She was going across the country and her plane was leaving in an hour. She went to the bathroom. It was there that she finally slowed down and took the time to see how she looked.

Her long blond hair was mussed and her make-up was smudged. With warm soap and water she washed it off. She could not wait until she was in a hotel bath with candles, far away from here.


	2. Chapter 2

She boarded the plane and took her seat. She looked around nervously. She was momentarily distracted when a tall guy stood next to her and asked, "Excuse me, is this seat taken?" She only shook her head and kept looking around nervously till the last person boarded. A strong cologne invaded her senses, not just cologne but hair product, incense and mint. It was overpowering and she was surprised she didn't notice it earlier. He turned to her and introduced himself as the plane took off.

"Hello, I'm Brock. Brock Lancaster." He extended his hand friendlily.

She took his hand. "Helena."

"You're shaking. First time flying?"

"No…I just want to get as far away from here as possible," She said quickly.

"Running away from some bad memories? Crazy ex-boyfriend?" 'Boyfriend' she thought as she had a brief flash of Joker asking if she had a boyfriend. "Sorry if that was too forward." He let go of her hand.

"No, uh. Yeah. Bad memories, really bad memories." She took a deep breath and cut herself off not wanting to continue. He didn't press. After a few moments she asked; "So what do you do?"

"Catering." He answered swiftly.

"Sounds exciting." She responded.

"Yeah, I go where the party's at. I am the party." His voice trailed off. She tried to relax herself. If this guy was offering to be a type of comfort to her then who was she to not accept it? "Where are you from?" He asked.

"Louisiana."

"Ah, a Southern Belle, I like that," he smiled.

She bit her lip and blushed. "Minus the hick accent," she added when she recovered. "Australia?" She asked noticing his heavy Australian accent.

"Yes, I lived there till I was 18, and then came to the states. How about you, how did you find your way from the historical streets of Louisiana to the hell hole that is Gotham?" She grew more comfortable and sat facing him as much as her seat would allow. "I moved there with a friend, she left me….I was trapped in the debt that she racked up.-"

"Ooh," he mused.

"Another good friend took me in, got me a job and bailed me out," she explained.

"Where do you work?" He asked.

"Donovan Enterprises."

"There was a banquet for the merger of Donovan Enterprises, today actually," he shared. Looking in his direction, she shivered. 'Everyone there was killed,' she thought. 'Maybe he doesn't know, obviously he doesn't know.' It was the last thing she wanted to talk about or think about. "I was there. I came and left," he paused. "Catering." He finished. He eyed her, noticing her staring passed him. "You look terribly worried about something." He bent down into her face. She hadn't cried since her immediate encounter, but at the mere mention of sadness her resolve melted. He put one arm around her and hugged her. She still smelled like expensive perfume. Her body shook very slightly with her fighting to stay in control of her feelings. She felt awkward and pulled away.

"I'm really, very, sorry about this." She apologized not looking him in the face, wiping her tears away. "I don't usually turn into a blubbering idiot in front of people." He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"Absolutely." She whispered. Realizing how mentally and emotionally exhausted she was, she leaned back into the seat. "I apologize I might not be the best conversational companion today. I'm exhausted. I want to sleep."

"By all means, go ahead," he replied. "Everything will be fine."

She awoke a couple hours later. "Gah, aren't we there yet?" She looked to Brock and saw he was sleeping. She looked away then back again and watched. He had blondish brown slightly wavy hair pulled back into a small bun, a smooth face and nice hands. He was fetching. The flight was almost over and she regretted not chatting with him more. His eyes opened. "Oh, you're awake," she said.

"Just resting the old eyes. Don't really sleep well on planes." He cleared his throat. "I don't believe you told me where you are going."

"Well, obviously I'm going to San Francisco. From there I might go to a motel. I don't really have a place."

"You're not staying with friends or family?"

"No, I don't want to get them involved, er, involved in my problems. How about you?"

"I'm taking a vacation, from the usual daily grind," he licked his lips in a way that made her do a double take. "Doing some, soul searching, as they say."

"Sounds great," she commented as she stared.

She took a taxi to get a rental car, and then went to find some ready made food and a map. She could afford a five star hotel but she wanted something low key with a cozier cabin like feel. She drove in the outskirts and found exactly what she was looking for. She was sure no one followed her when she was still in Gotham and she was making sure no one could track her tomorrow.

Tomorrow, she'd go back to the city and apply for a name change. She'd set out to buy a car, something average, because she didn't have income anymore. She had a large savings so she'd be covered for quite awhile depending on how she spent it. Being on the run from a goon or the king of all goons could be very bad for one's health.

She actually felt relatively safe, it's when she had to go out in public that her anxiety rose because then people's eyes would be on her. She didn't know how many eyes the Joker had and where but she was pretty sure they didn't span the country. So she took a long hot bath to calm her nerves. She thought about her plans for tomorrow and tried not to think of the ghoul supposedly chasing her.

The next morning she showered, went to her bank and emptied her accounts. Later she'd redeposit them under a new name. She had decided her new name would be Sarah Carson.

She had told herself to buy an average car but she fell in love with a yellow Audi. Car shopping took her most of the day. She thought about exploring the city but it was getting dark and she'd feel safer back at her motel room. Before she went back, she picked up some scented candles a few other toiletries.

The next day she awoke with a really bad feeling. She was afraid to leave the room and only left to get food. She had regrets for staying out as long as she did the day before. She was out in broad daylight where it would be easy to spot her. Paranoia was setting in. 'I got out of Gotham as fast as possible. It couldn't be possible that he knows I'm here, if he knew then he'd be here,' she reasoned.

For the next week she decided to lay low. She was getting increasingly paranoid didn't eat and sat in the dark. Her mind filled with the things she left behind, her pictures, her few friends, things that couldn't be replaced. She thought she could get some things from her apartment mailed to her at a later date. She left her job and her boss up shit creek but she just thought, oh well, one less job reference. It's better then being dead.

She drew a bath and lit some candles, laid there and thought; this is how I cope with the danger. Was he a type of mafia boss? Or was he just Gotham's clown prince of crime as a news paper had labeled him? Did he simply not care to go anywhere else? I'm sure he thought I'd leave town. Then he must have planned on leaving town himself. With as clever as the news papers make him out to be, I wonder where he is. He isn't here and that's the important thing.

As the days went by, she was getting incredibly bored. 'I have to go out and get myself something to occupy my time here. Maybe I should get an exercise machine, a TV, or a computer. She thought, 'maybe I should go out during the nights.


	3. Chapter 3

One evening she was at Barnes and Noble when a familiar voice said, "Helena?"

She looked up and smiled. "Brock." He smiled down at her.

"What are the odds?"

"Yeah, what are the odds?" she echoed. She thought to tell him of her change of name but decided that he was just an acquaintance so it wasn't necessary.

He sat down on a couch next to her. He again had his hair back in a bun, sleeves rolled up on a button down shirt, well fitted jeans and Converse shoes.

"What are you doing to pass your days?" She looked down embarrassed to tell him how reclusive she had gotten and why. "I don't really get out of the house much."

"How come, there's so much to see. Have you taken up writing?"

She smiled and said, "No."

"Have you ever been on a roof of a building at night and looked down over the city lights?"

"No."

"How do you feel about going right now?"

"Now?" she asked in surprise. He nodded and rose to his feet.

"You really should come with me. It's an amazing view."

"Maybe another time." She tried to resist her new charming acquaintance.

"Come on." He walked behind her. "You got nothing to do. I got nothing to do."

She still looked unsure. He tossed himself over the couch and landed gracefully beside her. "It's a perfect night." She laughed at his stunt and said.

"Ok."

They walked out onto the roof top. He jumped up on the ledge as if there wasn't a 30 story drop.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Admiring. Come on."

"I'm admiring just fine from back here." He walked along the ledge till he was next to her. He gave her his hand. "I'm not standing up there. There's no railing." He motioned vigorously with his hands.

"Come on, come on, come on, you've got plenty of room to stand." She buckled under his charisma. She gave him her hand which turned out to be a vice grip on his. She stood there beside him. "Ok," he began. "Now, relax your grip on my hand."

"No way."

"Here, you see? This is what I want to do." He stood behind her and put his arms around her shoulders. Feeling his arms around her shoulders and his hard body behind her, she felt a whole other kind of rush.

"You were right. It is a perfect night." He spoke into her ear;

"When was the last time you ever did something so dangerous?"

"I- hmmm." She thought to herself. "Living in Gotham, yeah. Living in Gotham. I'm not ever going to go back there again. Are you going back?"

"Why? You gonna miss me?" he asked. She just smiled. "I can handle myself quite well there," he finished.

He walked her to her car. "Seriously, a yellow Audi?"

"Yeah, she smiled. "A fine example of German engineering." He scoffed playfully.

"Why? What do you drive?"

"What ever I can hot wire," he said as a mater of factly. She laughed softly and figured she'd see it sooner or later. He stepped closer to her and said; "I'd like to see you again." She smiled and said,

"Ok."

"Coffee next Thursday?"

"Sure," she blushed.

He took out his phone. "I need your number." She told him. "Smile," he told her so he could take a picture with his camera. It took a moment for her to realize what was going on then she smiled and he took it. "Buenos noches, senorita. It was really nice running into you again." He took her hand and kissed it, winked and sauntered away. She leaned against her car and stared incredulously as he disappeared from view. 'Wow. Just wow,' she thought. "And he wants to see me again," she smiled.

As the days passed by she grew less and less scared and thought she did out run the guy who calls himself the Joker. Or maybe he lost interest. She decided it was finally time she make her life more normal. She rented a small apartment and became less of a recluse and less paranoid.

She was taking a hot bath when she heard what sounded like feet shuffling outside the open bathroom window. She listened and was to creeped out to turn around. The wind blew in a smell that made her feel faint with alarm. It smelled something like paint, something flammable.

She got out of the bath and wrapped a towel around herself. Walking toward the window slowly she gasped as she heard rustling coming from outside directly underneath the window. She turned the light out so she could see outside better. Reaching the window sill she looked out and didn't see anything. It was dark but the moonlight shone bright and there was no one on the side of her house. Maybe it was an animal. Or maybe there was a spill nearby and the wind carried the smell to her window. She jumped when she heard a dog bark somewhere in the neighborhood. The smell had faded and with it her hopes of a good night sleep.

There was a knock at her door. It was Brock picking her up for their coffee date. "Come on in. I still have to grab a few things." While she was in the other room, he picked up some mail on her counter. The letter was addressed to a Sarah Carson. She came into the room.

He held up the mail. "Former occupant? Or is there something you're not telling me?" She looked down not wanting to lie to her new friend.

"I uh, on the plane I said that I was running from bad memories. That's just a way I cope. I wanted a fresh start."

"Of course," was all he said. He walked over to the passenger side of the car and she thought he was going to open the door for her. Instead he got in the passenger side and drug himself into the drivers seat from there. She raised an eyebrow then got in the car.

"Is there something wrong with the driver's side door?" she asked.

"What? Oh no, there's nothing wrong with the door," he replied.

They got a booth by the window and enjoyed good conversation until an hour into the conversation he mentioned; "You wouldn't believe what happened to me today. There was this guy dressed up like a total freak, like it's Halloween. I thought that he might be one of those weirdo's who go to those conventions and dress up. Any way, he asked me if I've seen Helena. I asked Helena who? How was I supposed to know who he was talking about? He described her as an average height nice looking blond haired woman who likes to wear yellow. I thought of you." By the time he was done explaining she wasn't breathing and visibly shaking.

"Did you tell him anything?" He shook his head.

"No, that's a very vague description. I thought he was joking. There are many women who could fit that bill."

"Wh-where is he now? Did he follow you?" He looked around.

"No, I didn't notice anything suspicious."

"Excuse me," she said as she went to the restroom and threw up. When she got back she said, "I-I gotta go." He noticed her teary eyed and flushed. He took by the arm and leaned into her.

"Wait, wait tell me what's wrong. You look, really bad. Is someone trying to find you? Are you in some kind of trouble? If someone's following you, you should come with me. Nothing will happen to you if you are with someone." She shook her head.

"No, no, no. It doesn't matter. I could be in a room full of people, a building full of people."

"He sounds pretty bold. Who is this guy?"

"The Joker. He's known as the Joker. He's who was in Gotham, who I was running from. I know it sounds crazy that he'd pay so much attention to me but he's crazy, completely psychotic," she said grabbing up her things and getting up to leave. "I have to go. I have to get out of town." He took her by her forearm and asked,

"What about the police I'm sure they could stop him."

"They can't stop him; they can only hope to contain him." She made a move to leave but he just stepped in front of her.

"Just come with me. I promise I wasn't followed. You need help. When we get back to my place we can decide what to do from there."

"No. I don't want to get you involved. I don't want you to get hurt."

"You shouldn't be alone, like I said, you need help. We can leave town together."

"You're crazy. I don't want you to be on the run with me." He put his hands on her shoulders and looked in her eyes. "Look, I told you this was just a pleasure trip. I don't have anywhere else that I need to be. Let me help you." She finally gave in and said,

"Ok." He got into the car on the passengers side again and slid over and despite the dire circumstances Sarah laughed. Brock said,

"Glad to see you can still have a laugh," and smiled a little. "And if this guy shows up and thinks he can have his way with you, this," he took out a Glock from under the seat. "Will have its way with him," he smiled. She should've been happy but instead she was unnerved. He turned to her and said, "I just want you to feel safe." She looked out the window. "I'm not safe anywhere."

"You're not safe anywhere else, but with me."

"That's a bold statement," she commented, taking the statement to mean he wanted to be her superman. He laughed softly.

"I'm a bold kind of guy," he said.

He ushered her inside if his apartment. When they where inside he locked the door. Sitting down on the couch, she watched him take out of his usual bun and ran his fingers through his hair. Looking up he smirked, "Hello there." She felt like she was about to be sick, hearing Joker's voice come from his mouth. "Brock?"

He looked up at her with eyes as dark as nightmares.

"Brock's not here, anymore." He motioned for her to come to him. "Come here, sit. Sit." He pulled her on to his lap. "Did you have fun?" She at him fearfully. "Because I did," he said. She looked back and forth at his beautiful eyes and for a very brief moment, brought her hand up to the side of his face.

"You can't be-"

"What? Nice, funny, kind? It was all part of the plan." Then she put her hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. "Aww, you liked Brock didn't you?" He pouted then shook his head. "Don't ya just hate that? Don't ya just hate when people don't turn out to be who you thought they were?"

A/N: To my good mannered readers and those of you with your burning torches and pitchforks. A lot of you might be asking, where are the Joker's scares? I had to make it so it was all make up, no scares just make up, so he could go about with out attracting attention. He spoke in Heath's normal voice and had the same had handsome face.


End file.
